AN: George Lucas owns Star Wars and everything in it. I own the original characters that I have created. This story was written with the help of one of my good friends, Tweets. Please R&R.
Her face was upturned, looking toward the stars. Her son was out there somewhere, living his dream to be a Jedi. It was a cool Tatooine evening and Shmi Skywalker-Lars was accustomed to spend half an hour in the evenings gazing at the stars. Anakin, her beloved son, was foremost in her mind on nights like this.
But this night, things were slightly different. Anakin was still prominent in her mind, but he shared it now with images of a little girl. It was nearly two years after her marriage to Cliegg Lars, and Shmi was excited, and half-scared. The reason was that she was unsure of how to tell him.
Her stepson, Owen, soon joined her.
"Dad's shutting down the power. You'd better come in."
Shmi turned her head and smiled. "I'll be in shortly," she told him. Owen returned her smile and re-entered their simple dwellings. A few minutes later, Shmi turned and followed after her son.
That night, Shmi lay in bed thinking. She knew she would have tell Cliegg sooner or later. With her back to her husband, she smiled to herself. She was sure that he would be happy.
Cliegg stirred beside her and woke up. He didn't realise that his wife was awake until she moved to look at him.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," Cliegg apologised.
"I was already awake," Shmi told him. She sighed. "Is something bothering you?" she asked after a while.
"No. I was going to ask you that," Cliegg saw Shmi's shoulders slump a bit. "Do you want to talk about it?"
She nodded and moved closer to her husband's form. Cliegg attentively wrapped his arms around her and began to worry. It was a long time before Shmi spoke.
"Everything. For this house. For my freedom. For Owen. For your love. For the baby." She hadn't meant for it to slip out like that but it did.
"B-b-b-baby?" Cliegg stammered.